


Don't you want somebody to love?

by UdSoul



Series: Assholes in love [10]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Dark Tony Stark, Freeform, Loki - Freeform, M/M, Mind Games, They kinda have a heart, Torture, Violence, happy end(ish), not a typical romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 01:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17499077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UdSoul/pseuds/UdSoul
Summary: What Loki wanted he got, and screw the consequences.





	Don't you want somebody to love?

Loki was surprised by their surprise. He is a God of lies and mischief. They gave him the title themselves, so, why they were so appalled by his nature was beyond him. Nornes, it’s all in the name.

He was self-serving and egoistical. He would choose his pleasure above everything else, even his own skin. That’s why, after pulling the spectacular ruse that earned him his freedom twice, Loki returned to Midgard.

Anthony Edward Stark had intrigued him, and Loki wanted.

The mortal was easy on the eyes and his suicidal drive was making Loki’s dark core tingle with ravenous gluttony. Stark was a precious, tainted jewel that Loki was determined to have for himself.

The God appeared in the tower, easily breaching the security, since the residue power of the portal masked his signature flawlessly. Still, he applauded Stark’s genius who managed to trace and utilise his magic against him; not that it will help the little mortal, but still for a Midgardian it was a great fit.

Loki was strolling around the penthouse curiously, sucking in the bits and pieces of information – rotten food on the counter, empty bottles lying on the floor, untouched bed, sleeping remedy - oh my, Stark was a deliciously broken man.

Loki was engrossed in the reading of a conveniently open file on the Starkpad, completely at ease, since he was convinced in his superiority, when Nornes decided to remind him what a fool he is.

The device in his hands blipped and, suddenly, Loki was shocked with an electrical current that knocked the air out of his lungs and ripped a strangled moan from his throat, before rubbing him of his consciousness.

Loki woke up in the cell, stripped of his armour and bound with manacles that were dampening his magic and generally made him feel like shit. He moaned fighting the vertigo. The pounding in his head compromising his sight, and the harsh lights irritating the migraine further.

“Please…” He rasped, shielding his abused orbs from the light.

“I’m not sure you’re entitled to mercy.” The familiar whiskey voice snarled, and even like this it sent a pleasant shiver down Loki’s spine. “What the hell are you doing here!? Aren’t you supposed to be jailed or something!?” Stark demanded. Loki forced his eyes to unglue to see the man he longed to consume, and he wasn’t disappointed. Stark looked manic. Somehow between then and now he developed the eyes of the ruthless killer. The calculating, pitiless cold made his brown look exquisitely tempting.

Loki tried to ignore his splitting skull and smirked at Stark sharply but made sure to take a submissive pose. It won’t do to be killed before he could get his hands all over that gorgeous body and delicious soul.

“I came to apologise.” He answered and found that it was not entirely a lie. Stark blinked at him bemused, and then cracked in cackling laughter that was on this side of cruelty.

“Apologise!?” The man parroted naughty. “For what exactly – the invasion, ruin, death or maybe for fucking up my life?”

The questions sounded bitter and Loki abruptly realised that the man he supposed Stark was didn’t exist anymore or even worse had never existed. After all, Barton said, and Loki confirmed himself, that Stark was a show-man. Basically, he was Loki of this world, and, suddenly, Loki of Nothing became nervous.

“For everything. Please, Stark, I’ve done many horrible things, but you are probably the only creature who can understand, after all, you’re not a stranger to kidnaping nor torture.” Loki pleaded beautifully, using his trump card and willing the man to sympathise with a fellow victim.

Stark watched him carefully and Loki made sure to shown him just how deep the Mad Titan reached and how wickedly he had flayed him. The cold, calculating look started to melt, until Loki could almost see the man he met in the tower – a hero, who dared to stall him for the sake of his planet.

Stark strolled to the cage, commanding for the AI to open the doors and walked to Loki. The God held his breath and made sure not to make any sudden movements. Stark came flush with him and crouched before his kneeling form. The man’s scent was intoxicating and the gentle caress of his fingertips made Loki quiver with want. The God whimpered, unashamed by his desire and then the heaven he was anticipating turned to hell.

Stark grabbed his chin and Loki screamed. The mortal’s hand turned to burning lava, melting his skin.

“Ah, you are sensitive to heat. Nice to know.” The man cooed, pushing Loki down. The God fell, feeling his magic furiously twisting under his skin but unable to do anything worthy.

“Anyone would be.” Loki gasped, agony eating him up.

“But a frost giant more than that.” Tony remarked circling him. “Now, Loki, the real reason you’re here is…” Stark prompted and Loki felt the air around him rapidly warming.

“Please, Stark, please.” Loki begged. “I’ve told you the truth. I cannot undo the horrors, but at least I can make it up to the one person I hurt intimately. Please, Stark.”

“Huh…” Stark remarked keeping the air warm enough for Loki to be uncomfortable, but not enough for it to be painful. “And if this is what I require to forgive you, what then?”

Loki squeezed his eyes tightly, his heart beating wildly.

“Then do it.”

Stark hadn’t tortured him for long. He made his skin blister just to prove a point, and then shooed him out of the cage, barefoot and bleeding, into the penthouse. Loki took a minute to catch his breath and then turned to a man he had no idea about, but still, unexplainably, was drawn to.

“Is that mean I’m forgiven?” Loki asked tentatively, to be met with a degrading smirk.

“Seriously? Look at you…” Stark said giving him a once-over, that left nothing but disgust on his face. “Pathetic.” He concluded, smirking at Loki’s wince. “It’s no surprise Odin has discarded you, I would to. I pity the man, such embarrassment.”

The words hurt, raising Loki’s hackles, but the God reminded himself that Stark was similar enough to him to use the same strategies Loki did, thus, he should weather it. He saw a glimpse of warmth there. He could surely make it bloom if he pushed the right buttons.

It turned out Loki had no fucking idea where those buttons were or how to push them properly. Stark had lived up to his moniker. The man was truly made of iron and didn’t seem to posses a heart, which was the thing that Loki truly wanted; not for any romantical nonsense naturally, just to abuse.

Unfortunately, the only thing he got was the body, which admittedly was a satisfactory consolation prise, but Loki was nothing but greedy, thus he probed and pushed until he found himself in the trap that he was setting for the mortal.

The realisation depressed him. He was disgusted with himself and the weakness he had harboured unknowingly, until it bloomed and overtook his heart.

Obviously, he had longed for someone to love him. He had fought for adoration viciously and mercilessly, and, of-fucking-course, Stark had confused him. Loki should have seen it coming but somehow he never did.

All those little kind gestures. All those backhanded compliments, empathic conversations and outright awe of his magic. Stark was practically swooning all over it, and even got in a nasty argument with Thor, when he heard him slighting it. 

It hooked Loki. It broke him. The God could easily see through Stark’s lies and off-handed treatment. The mortal cared, and Loki’s foolish desire tricked the trickster.

The God hated it, and especially when Stark run around unclaimed and unconcerned by Loki’s longings and desires.

“Why am I here?” Loki growled at the mortal who was ignoring him in favour of his “projects” on one of such days.

“Huh?” The man echoed, paying him less attention than he did dirt. Loki hissed, marching to the man and turning him roughly, earning and undignified curse and a death-glare for his trouble.

“I’ve asked you a question, Stark.” Loki snarled, squeezing his arm and basking in the painful discomfort painted on the mortal’s face.  Stark raised a mocking eye-brow at him, despite the obvious fury, and smoothed his face into one of indifference. Loki loathed the look, and let his displeasure known by digging his fingers into the soft flesh. The man flinched but didn’t lose the mask.

“Going soft, princess?” The man gloated, as if he could see into Loki’s soul and it took a lot from the God not to dissimilate the vermin. “No matter. You are here, because I want you here.” The man answered, prying himself out of Loki’s grasp and the God let him, flabbergasted by the mortal’s audacity.

“What that supposed to mean?” Loki quipped naughty, beating his wild heart into submission. Stark didn’t mean anything deep or noteworthy. Its possessiveness speaking. They were bad with sharing their toys, no matter how unloved or unimportant they were.

“Whatever you want it to, I guess.” Stark shrugged nonchalantly, returning to his work. Loki frowned not familiar with this new game Stark was playing, and smirked bloodthirsty, gliding to the man and enveloping him in a soft embrace, designed to show _affection_.

“But don’t you want somebody to love, Stark?” The God purred into the man’s ear.

“Why would I want _somebody_ , when I have you constantly?” The man inquired quizzically, glancing at the God’s struck expression and rolling his eyes. Stark was bemused by Loki’s slowness to see that this was the most logical conclusion.  Loki swallowed thickly. Affection always was given reluctantly to him. His own mother was scarce with such confessions and yet, here he was – a man whom Loki degraded and hurt cruelly, because of the clinical selfishness; who saw him trapped in a monster’s body; whom he does not deserve – saying it’s as a fact; as the most obvious thing in the world. Loki’s hands trembled, until they didn’t anymore. Stark covered his shaking palms with his own and squeezed painfully. “Don’t break on me now, princess. I like my things up and working.”

“Your thing?” Loki asked trapped between annoyance and incredulity.

“Mine.” Stark confirmed, and Loki could hear the same manic obsession and steal conviction, that brought him so much pain and pleasure during these long months, in his voice.

“Such arrogance, mortal, to dare and claim a God.”  Loki taunted, but didn’t argue with the claim. He found he rather liked it.

“I like my odds, don’t you?” The man asked, turning his head to lock their gazes. Loki smirked at him, giving up and going in.


End file.
